When It Rains
by YamiBaki
Summary: A romantic tale of Francis and Arthur, their emotions and how they end up dealing with them. Will the rain be able to get them together? Will love blossom between the two? Will they be able to come to terms with their feelings?


Disclaimer: I own the plot of the story only. The beautiful picture belong to the artists who made them. I also do not own England, France or the Hetalia Franchise, this is a non-profit fan based story written for fun and the entertainment of others. Enjoy. 

We fight.

We scream.

We curse.

We insult one another.

We hurt each other.

But what's the point? There's no use to hiding it. While we fight, we hide our feelings. We hide how we really feel.

Why can't we cuddle?

Why can't we kiss?

Why can't we compliment one another?

Why can't we hug?

Why can't we hold hands?

Why can't we make love?

I love you. Since we were children, I have loved you oh so much. I know I was the one who loved to hurt you, but I only wanted your attention. I am jealous that America still holds such a large amount of your heart, then again I am not one to talk for Canada also has a part of my heart...

Angleterre, why can't we just get along? Why can't you just admit that you love me too England?

It was time for another world conference meeting, this time it was held in England's home. I, of course, will be going, besides being obligated to, I really want to see him. It started off as always.

"Black sheep of Europe!"

"Perverted frog faced bastard!"

We were fighting yet again. My arms around your neck as yours were around mine. Strangling one another, each of our eyes telling the world how we really feel. To the other nations we fight because we can't stand each other. To us. We fight because we're too scared to show one another how we really feel.

England. I'm just as scared as you are.

I've only ever felt this way once. A long time ago. With her. You were the reason she has left me and gone to god. I hated you. I hated you so much. Only to realize that I was falling for you. My hate turned into love, and it killed me because I felt as though I was betraying her. Joan. Forgive me. But I love him.

I love England.

As the years went by and we reached a new era, I felt myself more and more attracted to him.

He became my all.

"Ah, it's raining"

France stared out the window of the bar, good thing he came prepared and had brought an umbrella. "England... Why are you crying?"

For a nation, their emotions controlled the weather in their own home. But over time they had all learned to control it and let Mother Nature do her job. But there are times when something dreaded or painful would happen, and that would make the nation loose control over their emotions. Light rain while the sun was out. Tears of joy. Slightly heavy rain while the sky was gloomy. Tears of depression. A dark cloudy sky with thunder and rain. Tears of rage and fury. Heavy rain, on a cloudy sky, no thunder, no lighting. Tears of pain. Normally another nation wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Mother Nature on her period, or a nation's tears. But France has been with England for far to many to long to know when the younger nation cried. Paying for his drink and leaving a hefty tip, France picked up his umbrella and ran outside. Something was wrong. This type of weather was so unusual. If anything he hasn't seen something like this since... Since...

Since America started the Revolution...

Now running France looked all around, if he knew England, the younger male would be outside during a heavy rain, possibly somewhere where there were a lot of trees and less people during this time. And the only place he could think of that fit that exact description was the park three blocks down. France made a run for it, bumping and pushing people aside as he ran. He almost slipped on the wet ground but that didn't stop him from running faster.

"Arthur!" He cried, looking around and watching the people flee as the rain got heavier, almost as if he were crying harder. The rain fell down in an almost painful like manner, it was also making it hard for the Frenchman to see where he was headed. He ran and ran until finally he saw a sign, leading him towards the park.

"Arthur!" He called again, looking around, if England isn't under the trees sobbing, then that meant he was sitting on a bench. France walked further in, looking at both sides to see if the British man in question was anywhere. Moving forward he looked up towards a water fountain, finally seeing what he had been looking for all along.

"ARTHUR!"

Said British nation looked up, his hair down and wet from the rain, his white dress shirt clung to his body, becoming see through, as his trousers clung to his girlish legs, almost like a second skin. His eyes were blood shot red, with endless tears that spilled down his cheeks, mixing in with the rain.

At that moment France dropped his umbrella and ran towards the younger male, engulfing him in a hug. "W-what? Y-you bloody frog I'll-"

"It's ok to cry Arthur" England stopped his rambling, his eyes wide as he heard the Frenchman whisper in his ear gently, "you may cry... But please, don't ever cry alone" France's hold became a little tighter as he pulled the English man closer to his body, not wanting to let go. "Please... Don't ever cry alone... It'll just be more painful for you... And I don't want you to be in pain anymore..." England was confused at first, before just breaking down and sobbing loudly, he clung onto the Frenchman he always claimed to hate, and cried his little heart out.

After a while the rain let up, and it only began to drizzle a tad. England sighed and tried to back away from the Frenchman, who in turn just held on tighter. "What? H-hey! Let go of me you pervert-"

"Non"

England stopped struggling and blinked, "excuse me?" France growled and pulled away slightly, he held England by his upper arms and stared into the confused Brit's emerald eyes. "You heard me. I said non" England blinked before opening his mouth to try and fight back, only to have France lean in and clam his lips. The younger nation stood there, his eyes wide as he realized the situation. France pulled away and stared back into those emerald eyes. Oh those eyes that he had learn to love. "I can't let you go Arthur, all these years of denying myself and trying to tell myself that I didn't love you, only to realize in short that I do. I love you. You have stolen my heart in ways that no one has ever done so before, and I refuse to let you go" Before England could say anything France pulled him in for another kiss, this time England struggled, only to have France hold him closer and tighten his grip. After a while, England just gave in, and slowly, kissed back. The two stood there, feeling the fireworks light up and go off in their minds as they felt each others lips on their own. The rain let up just a little, only to be light, not enough for one to notice as the clouds began to move and the sun began to shine brightly down on their little heads. They pulled apart after awhile, due to much needed air. France stared at his English love and slowly began to place gentle, loving kisses all over his face. On his eyes, his cheeks, his forehead and his nose. England sighed and allowed it, feeling blissful as he stood there hugging the Frenchman. After a long while France's lips finally returned to England's as he kissed the nation softly, "je t'aime Angleterre". The two stood there awhile, until England finally spoke, "you bloody frog"

"Qu'à?"

"You heard me! How dare you just come here and kiss me!"

"Arthur I-"

"Shut up" the younger nation said, turning his now red face to the side, "you didn't even let me respond, bloody wanker" he muttered. France, upon hearing this, smiled softly and places his chin on the younger nation's shoulder. "Do tell me Arthur" he spoke softly, "what was your respond?" Arthur blushed harder and weakly smacked the Frenchman in the arm. Before muttering something softly. "I couldn't hear you" England sighed, "I said..." His voice faded as he talked. France chuckled and hugged him a little tighter, "mon amore, speak up~"

"I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO YOU BLOODY GIT!"

Francis chuckled and hugged the nation tightly. "In so glad you do" the two just stood there and enjoyed each others embrace.

"I really do love you Arthur"

"And I love you as well... F-Francis"

"Ohonhonhonhon~ mon amore is so, how you say, tsundere~"

"Gah you bloody wanker you ruined the moment I'm out of here! Oi! Let go of me I said I was leaving!"

"Ohonhonhonhonhon~"

"YOU PERVERTED FROG!"

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Achoo!"

Francis sniffles as he held the blankets closer to his body, a small bag filled with ice sat atop of his head as he shivered, his teethe clattering the thermometer in his mouth. Arthur reached over and took the thermometer out of his mouth, placing one hand on his hip re-read it and scowled. "You idiot, you know better then to stand under the heavy rain like that!"

Francis just sneezed again before coughing, clenching the blanket closer to him as he shivered. "Why would you even do something so stupid" the British blond muttered before heading out, "I did it for you mon amore" Francis said proudly. Sighing Arthur turned around and scratched the back of his head, trying to cover his blush. "Honestly, you didn't even take it into consideration that you'd get sick, bloody idiot"

"It was worth it!"

Sighing, the blond walked out of the room to get the soup and other goods he ordered, he hated to do it but everyone kept complaining about his cooking so he said screw it and ordered some take out with a side order of chicken soup. Just this once, for the French man. As he was out of sight Francis sighed but smiled, looking out the window pleased. The sun was shining brightly and all signs of the previous rain had dried up and disappeared.

"For you Arthur, it was all worth it"

And to think, this all happened because of a little rain... 

A/N: This was written for Liziz Stories, who had requested this a loooong while back. I'm soooo sorry this is late but I promise to make it up to you! And I did... By writing another one shot. I hope this turned out well. I'm not sure about all of you but to me Francis Bonnefoy is no rapist. Perverted, yes, but defiantly not a rapist.

"One cannot force love onto others"

This was said by our favourite Frenchman~ love him! Well I hope you enjoyed this one shot. Love you and again I'm sorry for the late upload!

Liziz stories here is your request~


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